Your Skin and Bones Turn Into Something Beautiful
by infinitehearts
Summary: And to think, it all began with a treehouse. Ianthony. Oneshot.


**Warnings: Language, sexual themes, fluff**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the boys.**

**A/N: Oneshot.**

* * *

On the morning of his tenth birthday, Ian's parents find him in the kitchen. He's bent over a bowl of cereal, kicking sock feet across the tiled floor.

"Happy Birthday, honey," his mother says. She places a kiss on his forehead. "We've got a surprise for you."

He looks up, eyes wide and bright with excitement.

They start on the treehouse the following Saturday. Ian is the envy of all his friends.

**...**

Ian meets Anthony in the sixth grade.

Both are quite shy, the last in the class to be paired for a science project on volcanoes. They become best friends instantly.

Fate, some call it.

Ian shows Anthony the treehouse one day after school. It sits in the tallest oak behind his house, isolated away from all the neighbors.

They climb up the wooden boards and through the small door. There are comic books and Pokémon cards scattered across the floor and posters of famous superheroes hung on the walls.

"This is so awesome," Anthony says. "I wish I had one of these."

Soon, the treehouse becomes their own little world where no one can harm them. Not bullies or mean teachers or even the neighbor's vicious dog.

They spend most of their time battling Pokémon and talking about the new girl in school. Her name is Abbey.

"She's from Montana," Ian says when the sun is setting and the weekend is almost over.

Anthony raises an eyebrow. "I thought she was from Nebraska."

"No, dude. Montana. I heard Mrs. Cooper say it in first period this morning."

"Well, whatever. All I'm saying is that she's pretty cute."

"Really?"

"What? You don't think so?"

Gaze rising from his cards, Ian shrugs. "I don't know. I mean, she smells nice. Like apples."

The taller boys stills, focus steady on anything but the game. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Have you ever kissed anyone before?"

Ian makes a face. "Like a girl? No. Besides, I don't even know how to kiss."

"Really? It doesn't look that hard. I see my parents do it all the time."

"Ew. Gross."

"Kind of. But I can teach you. I mean, if you want."

"To kiss?" Ian bites down on his bottom lip.

Pushing his cards aside, the darker brunette scoots closer. "Yeah."

Their knees are touching. Ian can't breathe.

"Here, practice on your hand a few times."

Hesitantly, Ian raises an arm, presses quick kisses against the smooth skin. He frowns. "This is just stupid."

"It's not stupid. How are you ever gonna do it right if you don't know how?"

"Fine. Can we just get this over with?"

Anthony rolls his eyes. "Alright. So, I saw this thing on TV where the guy put his hand on the girl's cheek. Like, just before they kissed." Slowly, his arm moves forward in empty space, fingers reaching out to find the warmth of Ian's cheek.

The smaller boy is blushing like crazy, heart hammering so fast in his chest that he feels it might explode. "N-now what?"

"Now," Anthony mutters softly, "I'm gonna tilt my head to the right. Follow me."

Ian swallows. He obeys. They're moving closer and closer and god, what is happening?

"Ian."

It's his best friend's voice. It pulls him back into reality, back to the moment where there are butterflies in his stomach and goosebumps prickling everywhere.

"Close your eyes."

He does.

And then, the kaleidoscope of colors behind his eyelids dance wildly in the darkness and there is a sudden pressure pushed against his mouth. It's soft and new and just...something he can't entirely place.

But it only last a few seconds, for he finds himself pulling back.

Anthony stares with big, brown eyes. "Woah," he breathes.

Ian only nods. He can still feel the weight, the bolt of lightning that pulsed its way through his veins.

Then they continue their game and everything is normal again.

**...**

"Come on!'

The year is 2003.

"Dude, hold the fuck on! Damn."

Anthony reaches the stairs first, catching the last of Ian's blue t-shirt as he squeezes himself through the door. He hears the leaves crunching, the loud and unnecessary grunting.

"You know," Ian says when he's inside, "maybe if you-"

But the rest of his words tumble away as the taller boy pins him against the wall, lips colliding at an almost painful force. Anthony is nipping and biting his way across his boyfriend's jaw, relocating to the pale, sensitive flesh of his neck. There's a dark purple bruise in a matter of seconds.

Ian moans loudly, a hand tangled in dark locks of hair, while the other finds Anthony's belt.

"Fuck," the shorter boy manages. He watches as his shirt is flung to the side, the way Anthony removes his as well.

"You're _really_ gonna get it this time, Ian. Just wait."

Ian shudders when the darker brunette's fingers begin to pull at his belt, mouth still sucking the swollen pulse point.

Just as Anthony gets the zipper down, about ready to fall to his knees, a door slams.

"Ian!"

Oh, god.

Both pairs of eyes grow to the size of saucers.

"Shit!" Ian cries softly and hurries to fix his jeans. He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing Anthony's across the room. When he looks over the edge, his mother is staring up from patches of dying grass. "What do you want?"

"Well, first of all, I want to know why you still sit up in that thing. You're seventeen."

"So?"

She frowns. "Anyway, dinner's in ten. Just letting you know."

"Okay, Mom. Whatever." He rolls his eyes, turning back to the boy in the corner.

"Your mom totally just ruined the mood," Anthony mutters. "I'm not even horny anymore."

"Yeah. Count me out, too."

Suddenly, the darker brunette starts to laugh.

Ian smacks his knee. "What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking how much of a cockblock your mom is. Seriously. Every fucking time."

"Ew, dude. Don't say _cock_ and _mom_ in the same sentence."

There's a stretch of silence between them. A bird chirps outside. A squirrel runs across the wooden roof.

But this time, Ian is laughing. Anthony joins him a moment later. It's loud and sweet and the most beautiful sound ever created.

**...**

Seven years later, they drive three hours straight to a place it seems they can never escape. It tugs them back every once in awhile, any way, shape, or form. The address is forever etched into their minds. The house number comes easier than one, two, three.

They park the car across the road. Anthony drums his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the radio while Ian scribbles both their names inside a birthday card.

"Let's go," the lighter brunette says. He grabs a colorfully wrapped box from the backseat and gets out. "We're already late."

Ian's parents greet them at the front door. His mother gives him a big kiss on the forehead, his father a hug.

He smiles. "Happy Birthday, Dad."

They're in the kitchen, picking at the food, when Anthony pulls on the sleeve of Ian's shirt. He points past the screen door, across the expanse of freshly mowed grass.

"Look."

The corners of Ian's mouth turn up in a small smile. He takes the older boy's hand in his. Leads the way.

"Can you believe it's still in one piece?" Anthony asks. "It's so old."

Running his hand along every crevice of aging bark, each splintered step, Ian adverts his gaze to the sky.

And begins to climb. His fingers catch and the toes of his shoes slip, but he reaches the top. He gets there.

"Come on!" He calls, and Anthony tells him how crazy he is. Follows with a soft laugh, shake of his head.

Immediately, Ian feels as if he is twelve again. From the posters of Spiderman to the stacks of Pokémon cards, everything is exactly how they left it.

Anthony exhales heavily. "Damn."

Ian's shoes scuff against the floor. Kneeling down beside the window, his fingertips brush over carved, messy letters.

_A + I_

"I remember that," Anthony says from behind, and Ian straightens, turning into his boyfriend's embrace.

"I love you," he whispers into the crook of the darker brunette's neck. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

When Anthony moves to hold Ian's face in his palms, just like all those years ago, Ian smiles into the kiss.

And to think, it all began with a treehouse.

**fin**


End file.
